


Pink Fingers Gone Gold

by wibblyR



Category: Long Exposure (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Zombie Apocalypse, M/M, Vore, handjob
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 23:49:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12805062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wibblyR/pseuds/wibblyR
Summary: Jonas is glad his zombie boyfriend doesn't want to eat him like all the other zombies they fight do.Except it isn't true, and Mitch is gonna have to break the news to him.





	Pink Fingers Gone Gold

**Author's Note:**

> First and foremost : READ MARS'S WEBCOMIC LONG EXPOSURE !! either on tapastic or longexposure.com  
> Mars drew some zombie AU pics (http://smokeplanet.tumblr.com/post/151325258504/ ; http://smokeplanet.tumblr.com/post/153187373546/) and because of the fandom's discord server this idea popped into my head and would not leave me tf alone so I wrote this real quick. Thanks Buddy for beta-reading.  
> find me on twitter @wibbly_R

“That rotter didn’t know what was comin’ to him, huh Joey?” Hyena-like cackling.

“ _You_ ’re a rotter, Mitch.” Eye-roll.

“Say it again and I’ll eat ya.” Gnashing of teeth.

Jonas looked at him a bit too sharply, with that fear behind his eyes that he hadn’t quite learned how to conceal yet.

“Aw hell, you know I wouldn’t-“

“Yes, yes”, Jonas cut him impatiently, flicking a maggot off of one of Mitch’s ribs, “but you haven’t eaten _anything_ since you’ve turned.”

They’d had this exact conversation a thousand times in the past couple months. Mitch sighed with all the air he couldn’t breathe and turned to his always-winning argument: teasing.

“Ya worry ‘bout my daily dose of meat and veggies? Ya care about me, Spots?”

“Of course I do, jerk, I love you.”

Fuck. Once he’d gotten the hang of saying it without adorable hesitation and blushing, Jonas’s always-winning argument was unfairly more effective. Mitch turned slightly away from him under the cover of stretching.

“I mean, you’re _sure_ you don’t get hungry?”

“Yeah”, Mitch lied. He scratched his ruined back, which the mattress bugs of their rundown base loved. Jonas scooted closer, just enough that his warm skin instantly eased all the discomfort of Mitch’s literally rotting body.

“Why? Do you think there are other zombies out there like you? That would mean getting turned is not the end…”

Mitch clicked his tongue to show his disdain at the optimism. He pushed back his greasy hair with a weary hand and winced when it touched the exposed part of his skull on his forehead. It was funny to poke it for a while but he’d noticed a crack in it and he wasn’t ready to see his own brain, however dirty the mirror. One could only guess what _that_ would look like.

When he’d stopped and thought for two seconds – which he was capable of, fuck you very much – he’d guessed that the chemical waste he’d been pumped full of when he was alive had had a side effect on his turning. A fucking useless side effect that meant he retained all his sanity – although that was arguable – and none of his powers while his body died on him and he craved flesh for no good goddamn reason because that would not stop the process. Eating other zombies while Jonas was asleep was all he could do to stop his mind from irrevocably linking “turned on” with “hungry” when they found blankets comfortable enough to sleep without three layers of clothes.

He just didn’t want to take away that little spark of hope he was seeing in Jonas’s eyes, that’s all. That was a color that was getting too rare in this fucked up world. Jonas’s colors were his only joy.

 But his boyfriend, his last fucking grip on reason, had to go and venture an idea he’d surely been mulling over in that quiet, determined way of his: “Maybe we could mount an expedition instead of wandering aimlessly, and find the others. Maybe there’s a chance we can rebuild something, however small.”

Mitch stared at the ceiling and then closed his eyes very, very tight.

“You know you’re poetry’s wasted on me, babe.”

“It’s not poetry! C’mon, don’t tell me you don’t want some action”, Jonas chucked half-heartedly.

Damn it all to hell. He wasn’t going out there, defending Jonas against endless hordes of rotters until he was too tired or too dead, just because he was too much of a coward to admit defeat.

“Well, Joey, what if I _was_ hungry? What’d you do then?”

There were two bugs going at it in a corner of the ceiling. Mitch envied them.

“This is hypothetical, right?”

Silence.

“Mitch?”

He couldn’t look at him. The green glow the room was tainted with was enough.

“Fine! I’m just like the rest of ‘em. It’s jus’ that before, my mind was powerful enough to move fucking cars, and now it’s just enough to keep me from going full-on braindead. But I’m dyin’, and hungry. We all fucking are, anyway.”

Jonas put a hand on Mitch’s arm. No amount of peeling skin or exposed muscle had been disgusting enough for Jonas to stop touching him.

“Why did you lie to me?”

Jonas had never needed to yell. His sad, disappointed voice was the most scathing accusation. Mitch gestured helplessly into the air. There were two fingernails missing on his left hand.

“’Cause I didn’t want ya to worry, fucking duh!”

He could hear Jonas ruffling his own hair, but in the distress way, not the cute way.

“ _How_ … How did I not notice?”

“’Cause you have a soft spot for me and you always think I’m better than I really am.”

They shared their first look since the start of this conversation.

“Also because I sneak in some bites of the rotters I fight when ya ain’t looking. S’digusting though.”

Jonas’s expression was caught between surprise and amusement, then turned serious. “Good, because you know I will never let you eat living people, right? That doesn’t change that.”

“I know, Spots, you don’t exactly let me forget it.” Mitch wiggled, rattling the chains wrapped around him in a makeshift leash.

Jonas finally lay down properly next to him, facing him in a way that was way too close for comfort at the moment.

“You’re takin’ this better than I thought.” Mitch said, trying not to stare too much at all the exposed skin – which wasn’t a lot, but already too much. Now that his daily struggle was out in the open, Jonas was bound to notice.

Jonas sighed. “I’m not. I just… I get it. You don’t want me to have false hopes. What’s left for us to do?”

“Well, nothin’ for me, but you’re gonna live through this thing, I’ll make sure of that, so ya can become the president when it’s over.”

“President of what? Graveyards?”

Mitch propped himself up on one elbow. “Hey, don’t be like that.”

“Oh, sorry, can’t I react to how doomed I am two months after everyone?” Jonas snarked bitterly.

Mitch dropped his gaze to the flies gathering on his knuckles. “I just wanted to keep you smilin’.”

And Jonas, like an angel, his angel, smiled a true smile at him. “I know.”

He would pluck that smile right off his lips if he could. Unfortunately, the staring made it obvious.

“Wait. Is that why you don’t kiss me? Or touch me?”

Mitch wasn’t a fucking coward, so he held Jonas’s gaze, but said nothing, because there was nothing to say. He shrugged.

“Like I said. Zombies are super gross and not fresh. Like, when you’re like me, when you, y’know, get turned, you just start craving some human flesh – Why’d you think they bite? – and, like, it’s not even hunger, ‘cause obviously I can’t shit so that means I can’t digest. You just really fucking want to sink your teeth in a person. Makes no fuckin’ sense. Kinda like when you’re horny.”

Jonas seemed to contemplate this for a while.

“Sooo… to continue that analogy, if you ate a little bit of me, that’d be like jerking off and you’d be… satisfied?”

Mitch banged his head on the wall as he scrambled to sit up. “Are ya out of your fuckin’ mind??”

Jonas raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“That’d turn you!”

“So? As I said, what’s left for us to do? And as _you_ said, our powers probably keep us from going insane. You can’t protect me forever. The entire world is ending. Might as well slowly decay together as weird zombies. Or if we get tired of it, we just let ourselves get killed.”

These words, especially in Jonas’s mouth, should have been grim and terrible but…

“Sounds romantic and punk as fuck when you put it like that.”

“I knew you’d say that.”

“Don’t mean I agree. I ain’t doing that to you, Joey.”

“I prefer getting bitten by you than by some other rotter”, Jonas countered sullenly.

Mitch grit his teeth.

“You’re committing to being a zombie?”

“I’m committing to the idea of dying soon. Come on.” Jonas lifted up his sweater and shirt.

His wonderful pudge had melted a bit due to the fucking apocalypse, but there still remained those freckled love handles Mitch could never get tired of fondling back in when touching Jonas wasn’t off-limits.

“Around here should be ok, right? Wait, I’m gonna get a towel so there isn’t blood everywhere.”

*

Mitch’s head was spinning. He had no idea how much he’d fantasized about exactly this ‘til he was face-to-tummy with it.

“Don’t, like… draw it out, ok?”

Jonas was shaking a fair bit, but the opposite would have surprised him. Mitch clacked his teeth together again, this time a real threat. Jonas didn’t bother to hide his fear this time. Sickly green floated around them.

Mitch stroked Jonas’s stomach and nuzzled it – only slightly, since he knew his nose was broken to shit.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle”, he grinned. Just like their first time. Man, if he were able to get it up, he didn’t know if that’d be more fucked up or not.

He tried to gnaw at the fat a little to ease Jonas into it but that only made him squirm.

“Hey Joey.”

“What? Just go for it.”

“Spots.”

“What.”

“Imma eat you out.”

And just as Jonas barked out a laugh, Mitch chomped decidedly on the roll of golden skin he’d gathered between his fingers. Jonas yelped and Mitch realized with horror that he hadn’t been able to cut right through it. He grabbed one of Jonas’s hand and squeezed it, and lapped  the blood that spurted from the bite wounds _he_ ’d inflicted. Once he was sure his jaw had a good hold of it, he bit a second time, carefully, where he already had, sinking and sinking his teeth into the flesh as he petted Jonas’s twitching leg until finally the bottom and top rows met. He pulled back suddenly, like he was ripping off a band-aid, and the meat came clean off.

The chunk was smaller than he had thought – _which was_ _good_. Jonas’s hand intertwined in his was painfully not letting go. Mitch was aware of his hair falling into his eyes, of the blood dripping from his general mouth-zone, but more importantly, of the taste of Jonas on his cut, sensitive tongue. He felt… _alive_. He didn’t dare chew, Jonas was watching him so intently, chest heaving with breath.

“Go on”, Jonas said in a strange voice.

Slowly, Mitch let the flesh yield between his molars, filling his mouth with blood. It was tender, almost melting. He savored it, keeping eye-contact with Jonas for an eternity until he swallowed. Only then did he lower his gaze to the injury. It was already paling unnaturally, not healing the way a normal injury would. But something distracted him. Just lower.

“Joey, holy shit! Did that turn you on?!”

Jonas opened his mouth but stayed speechless, caught-off guard, and blushed furiously. Mitch took notice of the faint pink tinge around them.

“It totally did, you kinky bastard!”

Without thinking, he clasped Jonas’s face and kissed his open mouth enthusiastically, Jonas’s breath exciting even more. He pulled back before Jonas could respond.

“Shit, sorry, I… missed doing that.”

“Shut up, me too.”

Jonas kissed him back almost hungrily. Fuck, when he let down his inhibitions, he was so damn hot. Mitch had missed this so much. He snaked a hand to Jonas’s crotch, unbuckling his belt and not giving a fuck about his ruined fingers as he took hold of Jonas’s hard-on. It was probably his last. His skin was already graying.

“Hey, Joey.”

Jonas moaned, clinging to him the way he always did during sex.

“Joey, give me the best fucking colors before they go out, ok?”

He hadn’t intended to sound so pleading but Jonas nodded vigorously. Mitch didn’t know how he could pleasure him, the skin of his fingers sticking to Jonas’s dick and hardly coming off but he knew how Jonas liked it so he accelerated the rhythm, pulled at his balls, and when he thumbed the precome-smeared head, he couldn’t resist anymore. At the telltale signs of Jonas’s climax, Mitch yanked his pants down and lowered himself to angle his boyfriend’s orgasm right into his mouth. The come mingled with the leftover blood, and god fucking dammit he wished he could still get off because his mouth was so full of Jonas – his saliva, his blood, his flesh, his sperm – he’d probably have come into his pants right there. He smirked at Jonas, a mess and a half glowing like a sunset and sunrise all at once. In his own abashed way, Jonas returned a look that said the same.

No regrets.


End file.
